Page 85 of Behind the Bars

“That’s funny,” she replied, grabbing two plates from my cabinets and setting them on the table. “Because I stopped by the gym and they said you werefired.”

“I was going to tellyou—”

Her eyes softened. “Do you need money?” she asked, pulling out herwallet.

“No, I’mgood.”

“I’ll help with rent,” she said, flipping through hercash.

“Mom, stop. Really, I’mokay.”

She shook her head back and forth. “Let mehelp.”

“I don’t need it. I actually have to go to an interview I forgotabout…”

“Elliott.” She grimaced. “There’s nointerview.”

“Mom…”

“Please,” she begged, tossing her hands up in defeat. “Look, I know you don’t want me here. I get that you don’t want to be around anyone, but, sweetheart…” Her voice cracked. “It’s your birthday. And you shouldn’t be alone on your birthday,okay?”

She was seconds away from tears, and I cleared my throat. “Okay.”

“Okay. Now sitdown.”

We sat at the table, and I said, “I’m still not eating sugar thisweek.”

“That’s fine. I only brought enough cake for me.” She grabbed one of the Tupperware containers and slid it across the table to me. “I made you two turkeylegs.”

A quiet moment passed before she spokeagain.

“I know it’s hard for you each year when I show up to spend your birthday with you, but I’m your mother, Eli, and you’re my son. So, as long as I’m here, you’re never going to spend your birthday alone,okay?”

I didn’t reply, but she heard me clearly as I ate the meal she’dprepared.

Okay,Mom.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jasmine

The night of the show,my stomach was filled with nerves, even though there were only nine people in the entirebar.

Three of those people wereemployees.

I sat at a booth drinking hot tea, my foot tapping the floor ceaselessly as I waited for it to be time for me toperform.

“If you shake any more, your leg’s gonna fall off,” TJ scolded, walking into the bar and plopping down in the booth across from me. He sat his saxophone case on the table then placed his hat on top ofthat.

I smiled. “I was getting nervous you weren’t going to makeit.”

“I always show up, maybe not always on time, but I always show up.” He nudged my shaky hand. “You’re too uptight.Relax.”

“I can’t,” I replied. “It’s been too long since I’ve performed music for me. It’sterrifying.”

“It’s just like remembering how to ride a bike,” he told me, squeezing my hand for comfort. “You can’t mess itup.”

When it was my turn to go on stage, I drew in a cleansing breath and walked over to the microphone. As the bar’s band began to accompany me, I closed my eyes and lost myself to the music. As I sang, I held out every note and gave it my all, losing myself in the moment and feeling my soul heat up as I returned to my favorite world—the world ofsoul.

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